"Senior...Senior, these people are outsiders, and should not be considered as part of our Mount Wuyi."
After a long silence, the Jiaoshe finally squeezed out such a consoling statement.
...
The gate of the mountain stood as before, but the cultivators of yesteryear were gone.
The people of Han Mountain Sect had departed, leaving Mount Wuyi once again in solitude.
One day.
A wooden basin floated down the Wuyi River, in which lay an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes.
The bright-eyed little baby, with eyes wide open, was sucking on his little finger, curiously looking at the figure that appeared before him.
The young Taoist priest picked up the infant, and found a letter tucked inside the swaddling clothes.
He glanced at the content of the letter, then seemed about to put the baby back.
"Jiaojiao, do you think I should raise him?"
